A Doctor Enemy for the Cowboy

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

TWENTY-FOUR YEARS AGO

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Rex Dexin steeled himself as the group of boys surrounding the scrawny girl with blonde pigtails turned as one in his direction. Rex was supposed to meet his friends at Grandma Dee’s corner store on Main Street. The little shop had all kinds of flavors of popsicles, cold and perfect for the hot summer afternoon, but it seemed he’d arrived before the others. And even though he didn’t recognize the girl standing next to the beaten-up pickup truck, he knew the boys all too well.

Oscar and his little bullies. That was the name he’d coined for these classmates, who all seemed to hunt for trouble like a dog after bone. And even though the little brat, Oscar, was only in fifth grade like him, he already had the makings of a thug-in-training. People said Oscar had become that way because his ma had left his pa for some two-bit ranch hand who came through town, but Rex knew better—Oscar had always loved holding power over others he thought weaker than himself. He’d even ripped Melissa’s poster—poor girl—when she’d come to class with it for show-and-tell, and Oscar had realized it was bigger than everyone else’s, even his.

Rex tried to ignore him for the most part, since he didn’t like getting into fights, but harassing a girl was a line Oscar wasn’t supposed to cross. Ma had taught him girls needed to be protected.

He planted his feet firmly on the ground and squared his shoulders. “I said leave her alone,” Rex repeated.

The boys looked at one another and then back at Oscar as if waiting for his signal. But Rex wasn’t worried—Oscar knew better than to try to fight him; the last time he’d done it, Oscar had ended up at the dentist’s. Rex hated violence, but he disliked a bully more.

“No need to get all twisted up,” Oscar said as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “We were just having a chat with the little lady.”

Rex scoffed. Little lady. Did Oscar think he was The Godfather? The movie had been all the rave in town a few months ago, but Rex hadn’t cared for it. Too many killings if you asked him.

“Well, the talk is over,” Rex said, keeping his eyes steady on Oscar.

“Okay, okay,” Oscar said. “Let’s go, boys.”

They marched past Rex and behind Oscar like little ants and soon disappeared at the end of the street.

Rex’s shoulders relaxed. Even though he could take on Oscar one-on-one, it wouldn’t have been a smart idea to fight the whole group.

“I can take care of myself just fine,” the girl said, her chin up and her eyes blazing in anger.

The girl had spunk for sure. But why was she treating him like enemy when he’d only helped her? “Sure,” he replied, though he didn’t think she’d have been able to handle Oscar and his cronies.

He moved over and leaned against the crates beside the store’s entrance, which gave him a better view of the girl, who seemed to be clutching a small book against her chest. The girl looked rather small for her age, with her hair braided into untidy pigtails and her worn jeans barely reaching her ankles. But he guessed she must be only a year or two younger than himself.

Rex frowned. Where was her family, and why was she here alone?

He looked through the store windows and noticed a man in a striped T-shirt and black corduroy pants at the checkout counter. Maybe that was her father. Then he turned back to her only to find her eyes on him.

Rex stared back. The girl wasn’t pretty like his classmate Darla—Darla had even won a spot on a national milk commercial, and all the boys liked her. Well, except for him of course. Rex wasn’t interested in girls. Give him a horse and an old vintage car any day and he was happy.

But there was something about this girl’s large brown eyes he couldn’t look away from. He adjusted the cowboy hat on his head. “What’s that?” he asked, gesturing at the book she held.

“Oliver Twist.”

Surprise, surprise. Who would have thought? Maggie, his ma’s friend, had been on his case about reading books that weren’t about horses and had given him the same book to read. It wasn’t common reading material in these parts, and he’d found it interesting. “Good book,” he said.

“You’ve read it?” she asked in a voice that indicated she didn’t believe him.

“Yes. I want some more.”

She laughed, a sweet sound that made his heart feel funny. Rex wished he could hear it again.

“Thank you for your help,” she finally said.

“Anytime,” he replied. “I’ll always protect you.”

Rex’s face turned red. Now why did he go and say that? He didn’t really know her, and now she’d think he was a creep.

“Thanks for saying that,” she replied softly with a smile.

Something in his chest expanded at her words, and suddenly, Rex realized he wanted her to believe it. “I mean it.”

“Okay, Oliver Twist,” she said. Rex could see she was fighting back another smile.

“That’s not my name.”

“I know. But I like it,” she said. “I’m Rose by the way.”

Rex’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t look like my aunt.” Rose was the name of Oliver Twist’s maternal aunt.

Rose chuckled, the sound warming his insides. Now he wanted to see her smile again. “Red or white?” he asked.

She laughed, a clear pure sound he wished could go on and on. “White. Mama said it stands for innocence.”

Innocent Rose. He liked that. “It’s a beautiful name.” And she must have liked what he said, because her face turned all pink and she smiled again.

Rex’s ears grew warm for some reason, so he changed the topic. “You live with your ma?” he asked.

Her face fell. “She’s in heaven.”

Rex cursed himself for taking the smile away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“So you live around here?” Rex had never seen her before, but that didn’t mean anything. She could just be new to the area, though he doubted it, since most of the families here were either ranchers or farmers, and the girl and the man in the store didn’t strike him as one of either.

She shook her head. “From New York.”

Rex had heard about the place only because they had classic car shows there. He’d never been, but the city didn’t interest him—Rex liked it just fine on his ranch with his horses. “So just passing through.”

“Sort of,” she replied.

A familiar jingle pierced the air, and Rex guessed her father was on his way out of the store.

Rose must have realized it too, because her face turned serious. “Can I write you?” she asked.

No one had made this request of Rex before, but something in her voice told him she yearned for a friend. Yet if she sent a letter to the ranch where he lived, he’d never hear the end of it from his two brothers. Somehow he wanted this letter to be private, and Paul, the corner store owner, would make sure Rex received it—he was nice like that to all the kids.

“Sure,” he said. “You can send the letter to this store.”

“Rose, get in the truck!” a gravelly voice barked. Rose flinched.

Rex could feel his temper rising. No girl deserved to be spoken to like that, by her father or by anyone else. It was obvious the man didn’t care much about her. He turned to the man in question. Despite some resemblance to Rose like he’d expected, something about the man’s surly face struck Rex as wrong.

He glanced at Rose and saw the subtle shake of her head. She didn’t want him to interfere. So as much as Rex would have loved to bite off the man’s head, he held himself back for her sake.

Her father strode over to the driver’s side of the truck, jerked the door open, and jumped in. Rose scrambled to enter the truck on the passenger side. As he started the engine, the sound of which made Rex think it was probably on its last legs, Rose placed the book against the window and pointed at it.

Oliver Twist. The nickname she’d chosen for him.

As the truck sped off leaving dust in its wake, Rex understood what she’d been trying to say.

She would write to him. A letter just for him.

And Rex decided he’d wait for her letter, no matter how long it took. He’d tell Paul to watch out for it.

Rex would be her Oliver Twist.